


the benefits of being loved

by theangryblob



Series: omigiri bites [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Communication, Kissing, M/M, omi submits to the mortifying ideal of being known, osamu is handsy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27480949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theangryblob/pseuds/theangryblob
Summary: They start talking about the Next Step.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: omigiri bites [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1889293
Kudos: 47
Collections: WIP OLYMPICS: WINTER 2020/21





	the benefits of being loved

**Author's Note:**

> omigiri nation (population: two) this one's for you (my good friend lamb who i cherish and adore)

“You’re drunk.”

Osamu noses at his jaw, humming. Even when he’s pressed so close he’s still moving, hands on Kiyoomi’s hips, thumbs looped through his belt loops to guide him, body swaying. It’s - it’s dancing, yes, but Kiyoomi doesn’t know how to dance like this (or at all, actually), doesn’t know how to follow Osamu’s hips pressing against his, slow on the rhythm, like his body’s doing all the thinking for him. 

“I might be a lil’ drunk,” he murmurs, slides his hands into Kiyoomi’s back pockets.

Kiyoomi swallows, tongue feeling too heavy for his mouth, and settles for placing his hands on Osamu’s waist. They feel a little more useful here, where he can shamelessly leach the warmth from Osamu’s skin, feel the solid bulk of him under his thin shirt. 

He doesn’t get the chance to touch him often - beyond the realm of holding hands Kiyoomi finds himself clamming up. He’d thought that years of being surrounded by sweaty boys in locker rooms would have desensitized him to the male form, but no matter how many times he gets there, the _real_ _deal_ (kissing) makes him nervous. Not that he hasn’t-

“Can I kiss you?” Osamu murmurs against his ear, low and warm, half-sober and half-asleep. 

Kiyoomi takes his face in his hands, prying Osamu’s cheek from his neck and kissing him, slow and languid. It’s familiar at this point - the first time, Kiyoomi had given himself a pep talk before their date and  _ still _ froze up, before forcing himself to stutter out a  _ I want to kiss you _ \- but now he knows the motions, the feeling, the anticipation. He knows what Osamu’s jaw feels like in his palm, the warmth of his breath against Kiyoomi’s lips, the heat of his tongue prying him open and laying him bare. 

The familiarity doesn’t make it any less exciting and even now when Osamu’s eyes are half lidded and the party is winding down, Kiyoomi’s heart is racing in his chest. 

“I really like you,” Osamu plants a kiss at the corner of Kiyoomi’s mouth, a lopsided grin when he pulls back. 

Kiyoomi kisses his cupid’s bow, and congratulates himself for landing the prettiest man he’s ever seen. Osamu’s more expressive when he’s drunk, and it’s as fun as it is embarrassing (for Kiyoomi). “I like you too.” 

“I’m really…” Osamu pauses, purses his lips, “I’m really attracted to you. Your body. I like you, but also you’re really hot, Komi. Your body is crazy.” 

“What-  _ Osamu _ , there are still people around.” Kiyoomi hisses, ears turning red as he squeezes Osamu’s waist in retaliation. No one seems to be within hearing range, but his pride will  _ never _ recover if any of his teammates hear about this. If they learn about  _ Komi _ his life will be over. Bokuto will never stop. 

“Kiyoomi.”

His eyes snap forward, surprised at the sudden seriousness. “Osamu.”

“I like you. I want to be with you.” Osamu punctuates it by squeezing his ass  _ hard _ and leaning in to whisper. “ _ Phy-si-cal-ly _ .” 

Every syllable is a shot straight to Kiyoomi’s gut, blood rushing so fast it’s making him a little dizzy. Not that he hasn’t thought about it - how could he not, the way Osamu looks, the way Osamu looks  _ at him _ . But he’s only ever had sex twice and it was  _ barely _ fine, worsened by the mess of sweat and bodily fluids. All he’s left with is a churning combination of desire and shame that makes his mouth feel too dry when Osamu hums against his neck, low and wanting. 

“We don’t have to do anything yet. I wanna wait for you. Make it good for us.”  _ for us _ . Kiyoomi’s head is spinning, and it’s not because of the alcohol. “I’m getting tested next week. Wanted to let you know. I wanna be clean for you. Only for you.”

Six words that could make a man fall to his knees. Kiyoomi feels weak thinking about it, thinking about Osamu, thinking how Osamu wants him this badly too. They’ve been together… two and a half months now and every step forward feels so overwhelming, like the anticipation will eat him alive. 

He swallows, forces the words out of his mouth. “Osamu,” it feels easier when Osamu looks at him, a sudden clarity in his hazy eyes, and smiles. “Thank you. But let’s talk about this tomorrow.”

Kiyoomi leans in to kiss him again, placating the inevitable grumbling before it happens. 

“Oi! Samu!”

The moment is broken and Kiyoomi turns to glare at Atsumu, who swings his keys around his finger and taps his foot impatiently.   
“If you want me to drive you home, we gotta go  _ now _ . I have practice in the morning. And so does Omi-kun.”   
That last part is spit out with a little too much venom, some lingering distaste for his teammate dating his twin, but Kiyoomi has told him countless times to fuck off and doesn’t hesitate to tell him again now. 

Osamu slips his hands out of Kiyoomi’s pockets, turning to scowl at his brother. Atsumu flinches, but sticks his tongue out immediately after, like he’s still four instead of twenty-four. 

Kiyoomi huffs, stubbornly taking Osamu’s hand. “I’m walking him out.”

“Why? Is he a baby? You think he can’t walk without you?”

Osamu goes blank, interlocking his fingers. “Shut up. You mad cause nobody wants to fuck you?”

“Osamu!”

Kiyoomi snickers, leading Osamu out past a very indignant Atsumu, and goes to open the passenger seat for him. Osamu gives him a broad smile, sweet and sincere, and gets in, not letting go of Kiyoomi’s hand till they need to shut the door.

Kiyoom leans in, sneaks in one last kiss so he can have the lingering feeling of Osamu on his lips, before he says his good night and closes the car door, letting Atsumu drive them off with barely concealed rage. 

His heart beats heavy, welled up in his throat, and he takes out his phone, drumming his shoes against the pavement. 

_ [ SENT: Osamu ]  _

_ I want you too _

**Author's Note:**

> /dabs


End file.
